A moment in time changed
by turtlepearlove
Summary: Every change leads to a different decision. How different would Draco's choice be if the 'Chosen one' was a girl? Would history take a different course? *Fem!Harry*
1. A moment in time Changed

Title: A Moment in Time Changed

Rating: Gen

Summary: Every change leads to a different decision. How different would Draco's choice be if the 'Chosen one' was a girl? Would history take a different course?

A Moment in time lost

The drapes were drawn enough and yet the faintest sunlight that poured through irritated his eyes. He wanted to shout for the elves to cast a charm over it, or something to prevent the sunlight from filtering in but his throat was sore. Even a scream sounded like a whisper in the big empty room, Draco groaned.

He could hear the faint sounds from the outside world, his door opening as someone padded in. In any other circumstance Draco would have sat straight and refused to show how vulnerable he was, but given his condition that was not possible.

He could feel the bed dip as he squinted to see who it was, the soft hand on his hair was answer enough "Mother" he whispered.

"Why do you do this Draco?" She sounded pained, the unmistakable crack at the end of her voice.

'If you wanted to help you should have brought a healing salve instead', Draco doesn't voice his uncharitable thoughts, he curls further into a ball as his mother idly strokes his hair.

It was years before that he put a stop to this, or rather his father said "stop fussing Narcissa; you don't want the boy growing up to be a pansy".

He shrugged off his mom's hands then and refused to let her touch his hair anymore, he had forgotten how comforting those simple gestures were.

"Your father..." she begins, her hand stilling, he knows his mother is choosing her words carefully. She doesn't want to sound disapproving, but he knows she had struggled to contain herself during the ordeal.

Watching her only son suffer through multiple terms of cruciatus wasn't a fate any mother wished to have, but there was a need. And no matter how much Draco hated his father at the moment he had understood that too.

His refusal to the Dark Lord would come at a price.

"We can't protect you always" she says instead.

He knows this to be true, though for a moment he just wants to curl up and complain about the unfairness of it all. He was still 16, not even old enough to do magic outside the hallways and classrooms of Hogwarts, he was too young to take up burdens that the Dark Lord expected him to, no matter what honour everyone would perceive it to be.

'Stupid Potter' he thought viciously, it always burned down to her.

Her and her vigilante group of friends perpetually in trouble, it was splashed across the papers too. How Potter had broke into the Ministry of Magic, something to do with a prophesy and the Dark Lord in battle.

No Potter had screamed in the middle of history of magic and ran out during her owls. She had been brought back to the castle in secrecy.

Draco would never admit to roaming in the hallways waiting for her, after all the end of the year Potter adventure was a Hogwarts tradition.

He didn't want to see her smug, gloating face, another victory against powers unknown, with sheer luck and audacity, and all that would culminate to her victory in the house cup.

The castle was draped in darkness as the floo in the nurse's office flared and for a short while Draco stood there frozen in anticipation.

The troop that followed weren't quite a surprise, Longbottom looked worse for wear supporting an equally bad female Weasley, Lovegood stumbled after her blonde hair looking singed with Granger and the Weasley. Dumbledore seemed to be levitating Potter behind him as Madam Pomfrey fussed about them.

Draco who never particularly liked Dumbledore still believed the man to be extremely powerful, was surprised to see that he looked worried, exhausted and old.

His eyes slid back to Potter on the bed, she was awake now as Madam Pomfrey tried making her drink something, she was shaking her head.

Stupid stubborn Potter.

It was unmistakable the worrying looking that Weasley and Granger kept shooting her, it was Potter who spoke up finally.

Draco was too far away to hear what exactly was asked, an outsider looking in, he couldn't move any closer without letting the others know.

When Granger nodded to Potter's question, it was Dumbledore who placed his arm over Potter's shoulders. Her eyes widening in shock, as if she couldn't believe what she heard was true.

She doubled over like she was in pain and as Madam Pomfrey bustled towards her; a subtle nod from Dumbleore prevented her.

There was something utterly heartbreaking about the way Potter huddled in herself, bent over like she was suffering some unbearable agony, like nothing in the world would make her better.

Draco didn't know what was being said, but no one made a move to touch her, Potter looked like she was shivering and yet there was no trace of tears.

Not that he ever harboured any soft spot for Potter and her rag tag team of Gryffindors, but at that moment Draco realised how vulnerable Potter was.

His greatest enemy was on a hospital bed crying and Draco didn't feel so victorious after all.

That his 'greatest enemy' was a 15 year old girl who liked like her heart had been ripped out and Draco felt wretched.

He couldn't take his eyes away from her form, like an accident you couldn't drag your eyes away from. There was no reason this 15 year old girl was going to save the wizarding world, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed tight enough to tear the cloth.

There was nothing pretty about the sight, of human weakness and sorrow, of being broken enough that there was nothing left to fix. He wanted to shake her, grip her bony shoulders and shake her till she screamed

"how are you going to save us Potter?"

"How are you going to save me?"

But Potter didn't provide him the answers as Pomfrey force fed her a potion that looked like a calming drought, she gulped it down, her grip on the sheets loosening till she was placed back on to the bed.

Draco tore his eyes away from her as he trudged his way back to his dorms.

Dumbledore's eyes briefly flitted across where Draco was standing, almost unseeing.

The next day, the Daily Prophet would scream the death eater attack on Potter, the chosen one and the news of Sirius Black's unfair incarceration and death.

His eyes would flit to the Gryffindor table where she was notably absent.

* * *

"Draco reconsider your decision!"

It was not a question but a statement, and even though Draco wanted to choke on his tongue he didn't change his mind.

"No father, I cannot accept the dark mark"

"Crucio"

AN: Do let me know if you think it's worth continuing


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: In the woods

**Rating**: G

**Summary**: When Harry struggles in the forest, she wonders about certain fair-haired git.

Girl Untamed

The forest is unusually cold, not that Harry didn't expect it, but expecting and experiencing are vastly different things she comes to learn.

The bed feels lumpy beneath her back and she is cold. The wind howls outside as she curls further into the mattress, even the wind doesn't completely block out the sounds of argument from outside.

She hates it all, the constant arguments, the bitter wind, the inevitability of war and the locket. The horrid locket that weighs down on her like a mountain, making everything seem so much worse.

"Harry Dinner" Hermione's words are sharp, snap her out of her revere.

In the beginning of their 'trip' Harry had mostly done the cooking, thanks to her upbringing by the Dursley's she could make her way around a stove, but as supplies dwindled and tempers flared, Harry was no longer willing to cook every meal.

Hermione's cooking is mostly awful, but by the end of their miserable trekking she is mostly ready to eat just about anything.

Ron is stone faced as he sits opposite to her, doesn't make eye contact as Hermione pour them some kind of broth. Harry pretends that she doesn't notice the prominent red rimmed eyes that Hermione spots, instead takes a spoonful of her broth.

"It's delicious 'Mione"

Hermione smiles weakly as she sits next to Harriet helping herself to the broth.

"How long have we been here" Ron's impatient voice ruins the momentary calm, Harry glares at him.

"What do you think Ron?"

"It's the necklace" Hermione cries out "It's what makes you so damn moody"

Harriet is surprised to see Hermione curse looks at her taken aback, Ron is pissed off enough to throw the necklace on the table as he storms away.

Hermione bursts into tears as Harry pats her back awkwardly.

It's alarmingly early when she crawls back into her lumpy bed, "Tomorrow we trek 500 miles east" Hermione announces to the room, she doesn't wait for a reply as she puts out the only lamp effectively plunging them into darkness.

It takes Harry a long time to realize that she can't sleep, her mind still tugging anxiously. She groans softly at its implications but doesn't make an throw off her blankets.

6th Year was one of the worst years by far, Dumbledore's murder was a shock, the fact that a 16 year old Theodore Nott performed it was even more horrifying. For a long time she had suspected Malfoy of foul play, it would just be like him to do something so despicable.

She sighs again, when had she spent so much of her thoughts on Malfoy. Instead of concentrating on things such as finding a boyfriend, she spent most of 6th year stalking Malfoy around the castle.

It was by the end of the year she had learned that the older Malfoy was currently out of prison. The embarrassing fact was that despie her suspicions towards Draco he had helped several younger highs hide in the Slytherin dungeons during the attack on the castle.

The bitter wind felt like a sharp slap on her face as she stepped outside. She rubbed her palms together hoping to generate some heat, she remembered Malfoy, walking around his head held high. That head of silver blonde really did stand out in a crowd.

She wondered if it was unusual to think so much about Draco, after all they did spend most of school year antagonising each other.

She unfolded the marauder's map in trepidation, tracing her fingers along the people she had left behind, thankful at the knowledge that Ginny was safe in her bed, so was Neville, Dean, Seamus and Luna.

Her eyes finally rested on the set of footprints that proclaimed 'Draco Malfoy', the pacing in his dorm room was nothing unusual. She wondered what kept him awake at night, wondered if he too was worrying about is parents.

She folded the marauders map and slowly crawled back into bed, it was a bad habit she knew. But she couldn't help but make sure that everyone she loved was alive and well.

The last treacherous thought that filled her mind was the fact whether Draco too had worried, had wondered about her sudden absence.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: I open at the close

**Rating**: G

**Summary**: When Harriet realizes the truth about her life she finds comfort from an unexpected source.

**I open at the close**

When Harriet stumbled down from Dumbledore's room, her thoughts were in a chaos. In a lot of ways the inevitability scared her, the way Snape had held her mother, the painful, horrible way in which he seemed to have lived his life. The ache of the memory seemed so strong that even Dumbledore's betrayal just left the taste of tears in her mouth. That she let herself feel a faint amusement, that at the thought of death her heart would pound more fiercely, more valiantly, to keep her alive.

She thought of her own stupidity, the foolish faith that somehow she was marked for a mission, the belief that Voldemort was to die. Yet here she was, on the stairways to the Great hall, realizing that she was marked for death instead. Her time in this world measured even before she could walk or talk, the time left, measured in heartbeats (a walk till the edge of the Forbidden forest). She thought of the people she loved, the people she imagined a future with, a brief fleeting thought that someday she would have her picket white fence and 2.5 children, a family that she could finally belong to. But what right did she have to a future when so many were cruelly ripped apart because of her, the faces of Cedric, Sirius, Tonks, Remus, Fred, flashed before her mind.

As she passed through the Great Hall she could see bodies being moved, on Oliver Wood's shoulders was the flash of pale hair that made her heart lurch. Colin Creevy, underage, had snuck back in to fight the battle, his body looked tiny in death.

Harriet spotted Neville in the hallways, the need to say goodbye suddenly felt overwhelming.

"Neville" she whispered.

Neville jumped in evident shock "Hariet, what are you doing alone?"

"Listen, Voldemort has a snake named Nagini, she has to be killed"

Neville looked surprised by the statement, but didn't question further.

"Ron and Hermione know...but..."

The wretchedness of the thought stopped her, the fact that she wasn't even able to complete what she had set out to.

"Are you okay?" Neville asked instead, concern clouding his eyes, "you are not about to do anything stupid are you?"

The question brought a wry smile to her lips, "No" she answered, another body was brought in as Neville's attention diverted.

"You take care" Before he could look back, Harriet was gone.

She passed through the familiar great hall, the one that she had spent countless days in, now a sanctuary for the injured and the dead. She could feel the anguish rising up in her again; Malfoy was tending to a smaller Ravenclaw girl, her tiny hands in his grip.

In the inevitability of oncoming death she let herself stare, that unmistakable blonde hair, the familiar pointed features that she had grown to despise, the fact that in her picketed house of her dreams sometimes the children had blonde hair.

In all their heated arguments, she briefly wondered if he thought of her, if he would remember her someday.

She dragged her eyes away, as Malfoy looked up suddenly, almost as if he sensed her presence. She didn't dare look back as she walked on.

The forbidden forest looked even darker and threatening in the aftermath of the war, she could feel the icy chillness of dementors roaming as she uncloaked herself. She tried to take a deep calming breath, trying not to choke on the overwhelming dread. She wanted to buckle under and not walk a step further, be dragged back and told that she did not have to die.

Cold fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her back

"And where do you think you are going Potter?"

She almost wanted to smile, how predictable that Malfoy would be the last one to see her alive, to make the impossible task harder.

"What do you think Malfoy?"

Her voice held no venom and when she turned to face him, he looked tired, older and sadder

"You can't go"

His grip on her wrist would bruise, she didn't complain "this is how it ends, even you know that"

"We will fight" the words sounded strange coming from his mouth, but she did not doubt his sincerity, his eyes looked imploring.

"no"

"You can't go, I will come with you"

"Don't be stupid Draco, I am supposed to go, this is how it ends"

He looked like he wanted to punch her "what the fuck does that even mean Potter, do you think we all fought here for nothing, all that death just so you could go ahead and sacrifice yourself"

"Do you think I WANT to die?" she wrenched free from his grip glaring at him "do you think I want to die at 17, do you think this is the life I wanted to make for myself"

The words came tumbling down in anger in frustration, "all this was orchestrated before I could walk Malfoy, I am the final piece to his death, haven't you wondered about my ability to speak to snakes? When I die this connection is severed Malfoy, when I die he is mortal again"

Draco's jaws were set, when Harriet realized that she was crying. She wiped her tears away hastily "Lets run away then"

The words surprised her "Let's go to France then, father has a chateau, or we could live as muggles, I don't care Potter, anything is better than giving up your life for the greater good"

The laugh surprised her, drawn from her throat she was surprised she was capable of sounding so hollow "You know it is not possible"

"Then let's find a way, there must be some way"

It was then she noticed how wretched his voice sounded, that she was so busy self pitying that she didn't notice the tell tale cracks in his voice, the wetness in his eyes, the smudges of soot in his face. She winded her fingers around his, at how easily their fingers entwined, that other than her awkward date with Dean in fifth year she never even had a chance to hold someone's hands.

"I could have loved you"

His eyes widened at her statement, "I know it sounds stupid, but I can't tell you that I love you, I don't know you enough for that"

Her breath rattled in the ensuing silence "But I want you to know that you were the closest to love, the closest I've ever come to feeling that way..."

"Even if I never admitted how much I hated seeing Parkinson with you"

They both cracked into a wry grin at that, "I have to go" she said reluctantly unwinding her fingers, she missed the warmth almost immediately.

Before she could take a step away from him, he cupped her face in his palms "Potter" his voice broke "Harriet", his lips felt cold against her. For a moment in surprise, her eyes were wide open, she would see his blonde lashes were darker up close, she could see faint freckles on his pale skin, she could see the wetness in his lashes before she closed her eyes.

He kissed hungrily, overwhelmingly, all teeth and bite that she ached. Her fingers curling into fists as she felt the wetness of his tongue, the possession that he sought from her, that for the moment she let him take control, let herself be swept into his arms. He parted reluctantly "I am sorry" he breathed out "I had to know how that felt"

She could feel the corners of his lips quirk in that familiar smirk, she didn't want to open her eyes "I would have kissed you sooner if I knew you were this good" he kissed her again, this time softer, pleading "don't go Harriet" his grip of her waist didn't loosen.

Harriet did what she had to do before she could comprehend her action _"Petrificus Totalus" _she breathed out as Draco's eyes widened in horror.

"I am sorry"

"It will be over by the time you wake up, this could keep you safe" She placed her invisibility cloak over his body, one last kiss upon his frozen forehead before she let him disappear. She faintly cast wards over just in case, a final glance at nothing, she levitated his body towards the gates of the castle. And without looking back she walked into the Forbidden Forest one last time.

* * *

"_Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?__"_

_The whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from her ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded Harriet's face from the onlookers._

"_Yes__," she breathed back._

_She felt the hand on her chest contract; her nails pierced her. Then it was withdrawn. She had sat up._

"_She is dead!" Narcissa Malfoy called to the watchers._

* * *

_.ii. Undefeated_

When Draco found out he could move his arms again, it was almost a lifetime gone, that even Potter's softly uttered charm had rendered him utterly powerless.

He lay on the cold, hard ground unmoving, briefly contemplating going after her, of making her agree to run away. To admit that when he talked about the chateau in France he had imagined it, Potter in her oversized awful maroon jumper, her untameable hair, her vivid green eyes smiling at him, that he wanted to keep her safe, hide her away in a world just for them.

He laughed at the absurdity of it all, it was a clear sky. The stars twinkled, far away and peaceful, behind his closed eyelids he could see her eyes.

The screams in the castle roared, jolting him out of his revere. He contemplated lying there unmoving, of letting the death eaters find him with Potter's cloak in his arms defiant.

He rose up nevertheless and dragged himself to the castle entrance.

The Dark lord's triumphant speech held no interest to him, his eyes resting on the prone form in Hagrid's arms.

For a minute he felt his heart stop.

She looked small in his hulking frame, her hair still wild and singed, her glasses crooked, her lips pale and lifeless, her eyes closed.

He closed his eyes.

Neville was speaking now, something about bravery, about continuing this fight till the very end.

Hagrid had laid her onto the ground, he wondered how cold it would be.

Poor, brave, stupid Potter.

Across the masses, he could see his mother's imploring eyes, he looked away and clenched his eyes shut blinking away tears.

Malfoy's don't cry in public.

His father had said that to him when he was 6 and wailing for the brand new broom, he had shut up pretty quickly after that, his father who stood weathered and old, holding his mother's arms. He didn't look proud and undefeatable as he once did.

How wrong they all were! When they told him the most important thing was family, that he was supposed to be the one to make their family proud.

Bravery, faith, loyalty, nothing mattered anymore, nothing he did or said could bring her back.

He wondered if she felt cold.

* * *

_.iii. Untouchable_

The last battle was as dramatic as history books would later write.

Neville Longbottom had slayed Nagini with Griffindor's sword, Molly Weasley had killed Bellatrix Lestrange and Harriet Potter had risen from the dead.

For a brief moment he had felt a shield charm when he battled Avery, he hadn't turned back.

Not that it mattered anymore, Potter had stood there in all her glory as she recalled the story of the legendary elder wand, of how Nott disarming Dumbledore and not Snape as Voldemort assumed. Of the elder wand's true master, that Voldemort's own killing curse had rebounded.

When he fell down in the dull thud, death rendering him nothing but a frail creature that looked barely human.

And Potter had won that war.

In all her glory of wild hair and glasses askew, seventeen year old Harriet Potter had killed the greatest dark lord in history. The masses had cheered and rushed forth.

And Draco saw her for what she really was.

He felt his mother's frail fingers biting into his shoulders "Dragon" she breathed out engulfing him in a hug. He let himself sag, in his mother's arms he was still the most important, the most needed.

In the circle of his parent's arms he let relief show, that even in the anguish of heartbreak he was happy they all survived. And that she had too, that in a way they all had their happy ending.

"Let's go home Draco" his father's voice sounded tired.

There would be trials now, his father's dark mark and his mother's loyalty, but he was glad that his forearms were unmarked, but for now he let himself imagine, of a peaceful day in the manor and his bed still waiting.

He didn't look back as he felt the weight of his father's arms around him, tired and weary. He balanced them both as he apparated back to the manner.

He didn't look back.

_**A/N: This is the last chapter of this fic, I may consider a sequel if there are people who want to read it. I hope everyone enjoyed this fic.**_


	4. Chapter 4

Part II- New beginnings 

Harriet attempted to burrow herself into the bed but Kreature's voice was incessant as always "Mistress has to get up, Mistress has guests"

The month had been exhausting to say the least; she spends most days attending funerals, even the ones that she wasn't invited to. Against the backdrop of black she stands in for Goyle's funeral, no one spares her a glance and when she sees Draco step up to place flowers her heart freezes. She refuses to think how her heart stutters, his face a cold mask. She pushes down the urge to hold his hand and tell him that it's alright.

She peeked through her heavy covers to see Krecher's impatient face and sighed "I am getting up", for the most part she had vehemently avoided human company. She had felt materially obligated to assist in the funerals as somehow the war was brought upon their doorsteps because of her. She had stood in for trials too, on Fenrir Greyback who was sentenced to death, for the Carrows that Ginny and Neville joined in regaling their tales of terror and for the Malfoy's at the very end.

Harriet had been honest to fault that when she was called upon to the witness stand, she had honestly narrated the incident in the department of mysteries, Lucius Malfoy's involvement in the war, his later reluctance where his wife and son were held as bargaining chips. Maybe it was Narcissa Malfoy's involvement in saving Harriet's life, or Draco's involvement in the war itself that Lucius's five year imprisonment in the Dementor free Azkaban was a light sentence.

Harriet was surprised to see a tanned Hermione on her couch instead "Mione" she breathed out only to get an armful of skinny limbs and bushy brown hair "I missed you too" she grinned.

"How have you been?"

Her eyes look appraising, disapproving at Harriet's over sized jumper and dark circles, she shrugged uncomfortably "As good as one can be"

"That's not an answer"

Harriet's returning grin is fleeting "How was Australia?"

Hermione's missives were infrequent, the wizarding international post was unreliable at it's best. Harry had worried nevertheless, the complications of such a heavy memory charm, their reaction on learning the truth wouldn't have been easy.

"They have agreed to return" she said softly, "But I am yet to earn back their trust"

Harriet nodded in understanding, even Molly Weasley had choice words to say upon learning what Hermione had chose to do. But it was war then and everyone had to make difficult choices.

"Andromeda sent me a letter"

Harry doesn't hide her surprise, "she had asked me to check on you"

Harriet feels the familiar pool of guilt settling in her stomach, she had made Andy worry, Andromeda who had lost a daughter and a husband, who was taking care of a six month old.

Harry doesn't have the luxury of sympathy, just weariness that sinks into her bones and stays there like a heavy shroud.

She had taken a walk in diagon alley, rebuilding and magic putting back a ruined street. Eyes had lingered longer before people crowded and she had to leave amongst tears and threats of feeling claustrophobic.

"you should get out of the house"

Hermione looked lovely, even with the bushy hair and her cheekbones sharp and hollow never quiet recovered from their one year trip into the wilderness. There is still the scar in her arm "mudblood" in faded skin, and eyes still brown, lovely and kind.

"I will" she said, because the thought of worrying anyone anymore was scary "and write to Andy"

Harriet knows she is under dressed the minute she steps into the streets, the cold air nips and bites and the warming charms slides off her skin like stinksap. The muggles hurry past jostling her as she winds her over coat tighter. There are a few wayward glances and looks and Harry wonders if she stands out just as much, like a sore thumb.

For a second she is half convinced, that there is something hideous about her ducks her head. Like an invisible barrier surrounding her, is glad when she spots Andromeda's house.

Like most wizarding houses, post war, was heavily warded. Most people unwilling to risk their lives for any stray death eater's wrath, especially considering the house also contained the six month son of two famous soldiers.

Harriet waited patiently for the wards to accept her before the door slid open, "Andy" she called out, "are you in there?"

She was surprised to see who was sitting in their dinning room, the familiar head of white blonde hair signature of the Malfoy family. She took a step back, muscles tightening involuntarily, even though it was with the help of Narcissa that she made it through the forest alive she still couldn't be at ease around the woman.

"Oh Harry you are here" Andy said smiling widely, the black circles evident around her kind brown eyes. Harry couldn't help the flinch of guilt that ran through her, she was supposed to be Teddy's godmother, she was supposed to be more involved. For the last few months she had been self indulgent in wallowing in her own misery instead of watching out for the people she loved.

"Hello Mrs. Malfoy"

Narcissa nodded at her, her lips into a thin smile as Harry settled on the couch farthest away from her.

"Where is Teddy?"

"Oh he is with Draco"

Harry barely had a moment's notice before Draco walked through the kitchen to the dinning room with Teddy in his arms.

It would have been funny if she wasn't personally involved in the scene, the slight widening of Draco's eyes and his 'deer in headlights' expression, if only Harriet was faring any better.

They hadn't seen each other in any other circumstances, the last she had seen of him was in battle ad before that...

Harriet blushed a vivid red, Draco looked away as well.

It was strange how their relationship suddenly seemed definable, those familiar features that always brought the worst of her temper brought a different emotion all together in her mind.

He looked relaxed, in a white button down shirt and pants, his sleeves rolled up and his robes draped on the back of his chair. He looked thinned, the sharp jut of his cheekbones more prominent, his lips a little paler, his gelled back hair seemed longer, past his ears in an artful disarray. Even with teddy blowing spit bubbles in his arms he looked impeccable, good.

"I keep forgetting you are in the same year" Andy said, breaking the odd sort of silence that had fallen upon them, "you two must know each other then"

It was Draco who chose to answer "Yes", but Narcissa's laughter was unmistakable.

"Of course they know each other Andy" she said "they have been at each other's neck from first year"

Even though her words were said in jest, her eyes looked at Harriet speculatively, as if she was a missing piece of some puzzle.

Narcissa Malfoy had chosen to talk to Andromeda again for several reasons, the wizarding world was in a state of flux, as would have been post any war. If Narcissa could describe in her own words she would have chosen the French revolution, whether Harry was aware of it or not she had not just overthrown Voldemort but also a system that believed that purebloods were better. And it was easier too, considering that well established purebloods controlled the wizarding world's finances and owned their shares in every major wizarding establishment.

When Harriet had overthrown him, at 17 no less, everyone had to give up on ideals. No longer was it acceptable to be a pureblood, time honoured traditions were cast aside for people clamouring for attention from the so called light side.

It was strange all things considered that if the dark lord had not existed, even Potter's parents would have been trying their best to fit into the same social circles.

Narcissa Malfoy shouldn't have been surprised to see Harriet's presence at Andromeda's house. After all it was well known that Lupin had been an inseparable part of their little clique in school of which Potter's father had been part of.

Even she had wondered about the Potter heir, he was handsome, from a well to do pureblood family and maybe if he wasn't in love with mudblood Evans from second year she might have spared him a second glance.

Despite having terribly good looking parents, the potter scion wasn't particularly eye catching. She had inherited her father's hair and nose that was too sharp on her face, her lips too thin and hair too dark for her pale complexion.

Yet she couldn't draw her eyes away from the aura of power that surrounded the girl, the vivid sort of green in her eyes, the sharp panes of her cheeks, a sort of beauty in imperfection that even Narcissa had t concede. She could be handsome, she thought, with the right clothes and grooming.

For now the Potter heir sat hunched, shoulders drawn and defensive, her long hair masking her face.

It was surprising change when Draco came into the room, her son who was so like his father in masking his feeling had surprise on his face. Narcissa found the flush of pink that crawled up his face endearing, after all Draco hadn't blushed past the age of six.

Potter's fingers curled against the armrests as she averted her eyes, while Draco's eyes lingered drawing her in, an expression so hungry that even Narcissa felt that she was intruding on a private moment.

Draco was always entitled in a way that only a single child could quite master, and Narcissa even encouraged it considering that he was born into much better circumstances than she had. The ancient and noble house of black was crumbling at the edges, of insanity that crept in through the dark corners and she had escaped to the Malfoy household. Of ruthless power and ambition, for the faint softening in Lucius's eyes that she knew was for her, only for her.

She loved Draco, he was not born out of necessity, not out of the want of heir like her. He was born because she wanted him to be, after she had picked out the colours for his nursery and the constellation he would be named after, after Lucius had asked, sometime in the dark with a strange vulnerability in the tilt of his voice "do you ever think about having children?" she had decided that she would give him that, a child.

Draco drags is eyes away like he is ashamed, for wanting her, for the want of her and Narcissa finally understands his defiance in the face of his father's anger, it was not teenage rebellion as she had understood, it was not growing up as she had hoped, it was love instead- like she had feared.


End file.
